


A Song in Three Parts

by HawkSong



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:40:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25275553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawkSong/pseuds/HawkSong
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch & Warrior of Light
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26
Collections: Summer Fic Exchange 2020





	A Song in Three Parts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SophSaige](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophSaige/gifts).



Part One: The Beginning

G'raha Tia paced the confines of the inn room, tail lashing.

He had done the right thing. The right thing for her, for Nightbird. He was certain of it. She needed a companion – someone she could turn to for more than intellectual needs.

Not that he wouldn't _love_ to see to her other needs...

No. No, it was unethical. He had mentored her in so many ways...it bordered much too closely on taking advantage, for him to even think such thoughts. He berated himself yet again, and tried not to think about the ways he wished to touch her...the ways he wished she would touch him.

The young man he'd introduced her to for tonight probably had her charmed by now. Was he making her laugh? The thought pained him, but at the same time, he hoped she was enjoying herself. She deserved more laughter, more reasons to smile, after the hell she had been through.

There was a tap on his door, and he paused in his pacing, cocking his ears curiously. “Come,” he called out.

His eyes widened when Nightbird slipped into the room, putting her back to the door as she shut it.

Her hair was mussed and her eyes were wide; her ears were down and her tail was puffed up with agitation, clamped around her waist.

“Nightbird, are you – what happened?”

“He tried to kiss me. I didn't want to hurt him but – he wouldn't back off.” She swallowed hard, and G'raha was halfway across the room before he could stop himself. He opened his mouth and closed it again, uncertain what to say.

“Just have a drink, you said.” Her voice wavered. “Raha, how _could_ you?”

“W-What?” Then it hit him. “Gods, Nightbird, I didn't mean – I hoped he would be to your liking – I mean...”

Tears spangled her cheeks even as her mouth twisted. “To my liking? Do you think me incapable of choosing a man for myself?”

“No, of course not! I only...wanted to...”

“To what? To shove me off on someone else, anyone else? Why couldn't you just tell me you're not interested?” The tears won out over her anger. “Why do _you_ never reach out for me, Raha?”

His mouth hung open. She couldn't be saying what he thought she was saying.

“I'm, I'm your friend, Nightbird. Your – mentor...I shouldn't...it's not right.” The words sounded even weaker aloud than they had in his head. His ears went down and he couldn't look at her.

“You – _that's_ your excuse?”

“It's unethical,” he tried one more time, but she didn't let him finish.

She rushed at him, her arms going around him, her face against his shoulder. He could feel her claws catching in his vest. The scent of her filled his nostrils, filled his head – he struggled to keep his hands still, but despite his efforts he couldn't stop himself from putting his arms around her.

“Nophica's _tits_ , Raha.” Her voice was muffled, and the curse she uttered shocked him as much as all the rest. “You're an idiot.”

He made a small noise, a question, unable to formulate words through the static of wanting that buzzed through his whole being.

“I don't want some random, stupid, pretty boy,” she told him. “I only want you.”

“B-b-but...!”

“I feel _safe_ when I'm with you.” She pulled back to look at him, her fingers trailing around to his chest. Her amber eyes were still wet with tears. “I can trust you. I can't trust those – others. They only see an object, something they can use to get off.”

He winced, tears of his own stinging his eyes. He knew what her life had been like. He truly hadn't meant to make her feel like...like...

“Gods, Nightbird, I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you...I just wanted better for you.”

“You _are_ better for me,” she insisted. “You see me. You care about me...” Then her ears went down, tighter to her head. “Or...do you not want me?”

The truth was past his lips before he could stop himself. “Of course I want you!”

Her fingers tightened on his vest even as she pressed closer to him. Her eyes seemed to swallow him up. “Then _take me_ ,” she growled, and set her mouth against his.

He was too weak to resist her. His hands clutched at her and he kissed her back, fiercely, a strangled moan coming from his throat. That part of him that had worried so much about ethics faded away as all the rest of him ignited with desire.

They came up for air, gasping, and he staggered back toward the bed. She stayed right with him, her eyes on his mouth, and when they fell into the bed, she only giggled. Then she attacked him once more, kissing him over and over, her body wriggling on top of his in the sweetest torment he'd ever known.

He grabbed her arms in his hands and flipped her over onto her back, setting his lips to her jaw. She tilted her head back, a little gasp leaving her lips as he nibbled her neck. He tasted her skin, buried his nose in her hair and drank in the scent of her. Her hands tugged on the fastenings of his clothes, nimble and quick – she already had his vest open and his tunic was half undone.

He raised himself up a little, to tug at her clothing. But he'd done little more than paw at her bodice before she had hold of him and was attacking his neck and chest, dragging her teeth along the pale skin as her nails caught on the fabric of his tunic. “Ah!” he groaned. “Nightbird, gods above, slow down...!”

“No, don't make me wait,” she growled. “I've wanted you for _so long_ , Raha, don't make me wait any longer...”

The need in her voice shattered what little self-control he had left. He sat back on his heels and yanked open the ties of his trousers, and then skimmed his hands up her skirts. Her thighs felt like silk under his fingers and he groaned under his breath even as he grabbed her small-clothes and pulled them down. The cotton tore in his hands and he tossed it aside.

She opened to him, begging with hands and body and voice, and every instinct he possessed roared into life in answer to her pleas. His cock was already in his hand as he shoved her skirts up, up, up – his thumb stroked across damp, wiry curls and she yowled with need.

He surged over her, leaning on one hand even as he lined his cock up with her entrance. He rubbed the head against her, making her toss her head and utter another sweet, primal cry of wanting, and then he entered her, sliding into the wet heat of her body in one hard stroke that ended only when their hips met. His mouth covered hers, muffling her shriek.

Her legs wrapped around him and he could feel her tail twining with his, her heels digging into his ass cheeks. Her claws bit into his shoulders and he could feel her fangs against his lips as he kissed her hard.

His world narrowed to the feel of her under him, the taste of her mouth against his, the sounds she made as he thrust into her. She rocked her hips, perfectly in rhythm with him, and her body quaked every time he sank fully inside her. The bed creaked beneath them, thumping against the wall in time with their movement.

He released her mouth, to set his teeth against the place where her neck and shoulder met, not quite breaking the skin. He felt her hand in his hair, pressing, and sucked against the flesh. It would bruise – though whether it would show on her midnight skin, he wasn't sure.

She was chanting his name, breathless and so very sweet, interspersed with whimpers and cries of pleasure. He let go of her neck to reclaim her mouth when he heard her breath catch, felt her beginning to climax.

Feeling her clench around him made him almost see stars, and even as she wailed into his mouth, he groaned. He pulled back, spurting his seed onto the sheets, curling on top of her as the aftershocks washed over him.

They lay like that, tangled together and sweaty, until Nightbird shifted with a small groan.

G'raha rolled off of her and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his elbows on his knees.

“Don't you dare feel guilty,” Nightbird murmured.

He looked over at her, then came back to lay beside her. “You're crying? Did I...?”

“Happy tears,” she reassured him, and snuggled into his shoulder. “It never felt _good_ like that before.”

He held her, lightly now, as if she were a bird that he didn't want to frighten. Gods, he had known – but not really _known_ – what she had endured. The enormity of understanding rattled him.

“Thank you,” he murmured, and meant so much more with those two words than he could have articulated.

“Hm, you're welcome,” she mumbled. Then he felt her hesitate. “Can I stay with you, Raha?”

“Of course.” He stroked her arm a little, and let his voice carry a hint of promise. “Though I warn you, it might be a long night for you.”

She giggled. “I don't mind.”

He stroked her hair back from her face, and wiped her tears away with his thumb. “How in Thaliak's name did you ever come to trust me so?” he wondered, his voice hushed.

“Because I love you.” Her mouth curved as she watched his face. “Or maybe it happened at the same time. It doesn't matter, does it?” Her eyes searched his, faint worry darkening them.

“No, I don't suppose it does.” He tugged her hand up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, never breaking eye contact. “I was trying so hard to make sure you were taken care of,” he said wryly. “I should have talked to you instead of assuming I knew best. I'm sorry.”

“I'll forgive you,” she answered, “if you promise not to make any more life-altering decisions without at least trying to talk to me first.”

He smiled. “I promise, then. I couldn't live with myself if you were upset with me.” He rested his forehead against hers. “Because I love you, too.”

“Hearing that,” she whispered, “makes me believe in miracles.”

*

Part Two: Walking the Path

Two years, they had been working towards this. Two years of clearing a path, figuring out ways to handle the weird wildlife and twisted landscape of Mor Dhona. A goodly portion of the work was done already – or rather, was left over from before the Calamity – and it wasn't as if they two alone were doing all of the back-breaking labor. In fact they did very little of the brute-strength sort of thing, when there were a dozen or more enormously muscular Roe ready and willing to swing mattocks and pickaxes. But there was a lot of Mor Dhona between them and the tantalizing spires of the tower.

In some ways it had been fascinating. They had cataloged more sorts of creatures and strange plants than any pair of scholars, ever; they had made observations that would be used by dozens, if not hundreds, of folk studying aether theory, the Calamity and its effects, and who knew what else. As was his habit, G'raha had put others' names ahead of his own in crediting the work done – not least, Nightbird's name, though she always wrinkled her nose at him for it.

They'd finally cleared a path up to the base of the Crystal Tower, protecting it along the way from Garlean interference and spying. Cid Garlond himself had taken an interest in the project, and once he and his engineers had come in, everything had progressed so much faster.

But work was at a literal standstill for now.

“What do you mean, a hiatus?” G'raha demanded.

Rammbroes raised his eyebrows at the near-mutinous tone of voice. His own voice was mild as he replied. “It's just plain too hot, G'raha. Even the engineers' machina are having fits in this damned heat wave. I've already sent everyone I can off to take care of tasks elsewhere, but there just isn't enough work to keep everyone busy. You and Nightbird and most of the senior researchers are on hiatus. Think of it as a vacation of sorts.”

“For how long?”

“Until the weather breaks.” Rammbroes shrugged. “It isn't the end of the world, G'raha. The Tower's not going anywhere, after all.”

G'raha's tail lashed, but he didn't say anything more. He gave his superior a short bow and left, heading for the tent that he'd been calling home for the last eighteen months.

Nightbird's tent was right beside his own – though really, it was more of a storage space. She spent far more time with him, after all. She was sitting outside when he came back up the path, dressed in the briefest clothes she owned, doing some kind of sewing.

She squinted at him, and her ears flicked back, then forward. “You're upset.”

“Rammbroes has called a halt to the work,” G'raha answered shortly. “A hiatus until the weather breaks, he says. Whenever that will be.” He scuffed the ground with one boot and made a frustrated noise. “Just because it's hot.”

“Raha,” her voice was reasonable, “it's literally so hot some of the others have taken sick. Is it really so very difficult to be patient, love?”

“Yes.” He couldn't quite keep the growl out of his voice. Her ears went down and he immediately regretted his outburst. “I'm sorry, Nightbird. It's just...” He gestured at his eye, then ran his hand through his hair. “Sometimes it just pulls at me so strongly. We were so close to finding the entrance, I'm sure of it.”

She set aside the cloth on her lap and got up. She stepped close, and set her hands on his chest, leaning up and kissing the end of his nose. “It will be all right, Raha.”

“I know.” He sighed. “I know.”

She smiled. “There's plenty to do in the meantime, you know.”

When he would have reached out to embrace her, though, she stepped back. “Ah, I didn't mean that, you tomcat,” she laughed. “The books still need to be tidied up.”

He rolled his eyes, but he smiled anyway. “Oh, very well.”

“I'm going to see if anyone has some cord,” she told him. “It would be good to have some kind of awning. More shade.”

“All right.” He collected a kiss, and let her go on her way.

He loved books. He loved reading, and learning. Sometimes he felt like his thirst for knowledge could never be satisfied.

But gods did he hate having to keep up with the clutter.

He sighed, for the third time in the last ten minutes, and continued stacking books. He was making piles – well, different piles. It was trying his patience, to find some way to organize the tomes so that he could find them easily when he needed them, but still leave space to actually reach his cot. At least everything else of theirs was neatly packed away. He and Nightbird both had a habit of living out of their packs, and it wasn't a habit he saw any need to alter.

He ran one hand through his hair and sighed again. He'd accomplished very little in the four hours he'd been at this. Time to take a break.

He got up just as someone approached the tent. He was stretching when Nightbird stuck her head in. “Hi,” he said to her.

She eyed him, her expression impish. “Hello. Making a pretty picture for me?”

He laughed and dropped his arms. “But of course.”

She grinned. “I came to get you. I found something.”

His ears wiggled with interest. “Oh?”

“If you want to come with me, I'll show you. It's a bit of a journey though.”

He tilted his head. “You have intrigued me, my love.”

“Then come on.”

“You did say a bit of a journey, but all the way to Bronze Lake?”

“Well you can't swim in the lake in Mor Dhona, now can you? And the price was good.”

“Price?”

“You'll see.”

G'raha surveyed the dilapidated structure, while Nightbird watched his face.

He finally managed to speak. “What on earth have you done with the door?”

“My best?”

He lowered his head for a moment, rubbing the bridge of his nose, but he couldn't hold back for long. His shoulders began to shake, and then he was laughing, loud and long. He turned to Nightbird and wrapped her in his arms.

She was smiling, with a touch of confusion to it.

“You didn't just find this today, did you?” he asked her, kissing her forehead fondly.

“No.” The way she looked at him through her lashes made his blood heat. “There was an old man in the Toll a few weeks ago, talking about renting out a cabin on the lake here. There's the spa of course, but it's...kind of expensive. And not very private.”

G'raha nodded. The one thing that bothered Nightbird most about camp living was the relative lack of privacy. She detested the idea that others might tease the two of them about their relationship. Such teasing had never happened – at least not to his knowledge – but the notion concerned her nonetheless.

“So you...rented this place?”

“I talked him down on the price by a lot. He admitted it was a,” her mouth quirked, “a fixer-upper. He said we could do as we liked with it, though. The stone parts are all solid...” She shrugged. “I worked on it here and there, whenever you were going to be away for a while.”

She ducked her head a bit. “But it wasn't really...usable, until today.”

He held in another laugh. The cabin was barely usable, but he could see how hard she had worked. She must have been taking notes from some of the architectural texts in the Order's collection, then figuring it all out on-site, by herself. He'd learned that she was like that at times – determined to do things on her own, even if she didn't have to.

“I was going to surprise you with it when it was closer to done. I've patched up the worst places. I was...thinking we could work on it together. Since we have time, now.”

“I am _most_ surprised,” he smiled down at her, “and I would be very happy to work on this with you.”

It wasn't going to be an easy project. But the way her eyes lit up, G'raha didn't care how many splinters and sore muscles he was going to have. It would be worth it.

*

Part Three: A Promise

Neither of them had any particular experience building anything. But after three days of the hardest physical labor he had ever done in his life, there was a good thatched roof, four walls that didn't have holes in them except where holes were wanted, and they had even created a bed. The cabin looked a little...strange. All of it was rather awkward, out of true, not square at all. It was highly unlikely that any of the wooden parts would last a full year.

G'raha loved it.

He had come back to the Find, with Nightbird, to collect a few things for an extended stay at their ramshackle roost. He had gone inside his own tent and she'd gone into hers; but when he stepped back out with his pack, he didn't see her. He checked her tent, but her pack was gone. Frowning, he wandered towards the front of the camp.

He finally caught sight of her. She was talking to Rammbroes. He sped his steps up a little as he noticed how her ears were back and her tail agitated.

“Well, then, you can expect me to be gone at least a week,” she was telling the old Roe in a testy voice.

“Take all the time you need. I'll make certain this doesn't happen again.”

“Thank you.” Her tone was barely civil, and G'raha cocked his head at her, wondering what was wrong. She shook her head at him and stomped off to where the riding birds awaited them.

He turned to Rammbroes, but the old man waved his hand at him. “You'd better get along, lad. You don't want to keep her waiting, I expect.”

He raised his eyebrows, then shrugged and joined Nightbird. Surely she would tell him what was going on, when she was ready.

They had stowed their things, eaten a little, and taken a very refreshing dip in the lake – the water was gloriously cool, which he had discovered that first afternoon. Even if they'd only had a tent to pitch here, he would have been grateful. He was drying off, feeling better than he had in at least a week, when he heard Nightbird's step behind him. He turned with a smile for her, and then paused.

She was clutching her towel over herself, and her eyes were darker than usual. She looked uncomfortable – not quite sick, but something was wrong.

“What is it?” he asked, coming toward her with his hands extended.

She twitched away from his touch, and he frowned in concern. “Nightbird, what's wrong?”

The wind shifted, and the scent of her struck him like a sledgehammer. His eyes went wide, his tail fur puffed, and he was suddenly, painfully erect.

Oh. Oh, _Thaliak_. She was in heat.

“I ran out of, of remedy,” she told him, her voice taut. “I tried to get some more. I really did, Raha...”

“Hey, hey, it's...it's all right.” He swallowed. “It isn't as if you can help it...”

“I won't ask you to stay.” Her teeth flashed as she winced. “I can...manage.”

“Do you want me to go?” She didn't answer him, her eyes closed. G'raha stepped closer. Her scent made him dizzy with lust, his deepest instincts demanding that he answer her need. But they were not animals, they were rational adults, he could and he _would_ force his body to be silent.

“Nightbird.” He spoke her name with all the love he had for her.

Her eyes opened, and he saw that already her pupils were blown wide, and she was shaking.

“Will you allow me to stay?” he asked. “I would not leave you here alone and suffering, my love.”

“Was supposed to be just a nice time to be together. No stress.” Her words were slurred. “Never wanted to, to trap you.”

“You're not trapping me. I'm offering. If you'll have me.”

“ _Have you?!_ Oh, gods, Raha.” She stumbled forward and into his arms. “ _I need you_.”

He caught her, and swung her up into his arms, carrying her to the bed they'd built together.

It was a good thing she was already wearing swimming things. G'raha had the feeling that even a tunic would have been overly stimulating. He was no expert in such things, but he had heard that a female's heat became more intense when it had been suppressed, and that seemed borne out by the reactions she was already showing him. Her breath was ragged and he could see how the goose-flesh was rising on her skin, just from the light brushing of their bodies as he carried her.

He set her on the bed and she sighed, letting go of the towel so that it fell open. He plucked loose the simple tie that held her bikini on, and she made a tiny, needy noise.

He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of the abbreviated pantalettes she wore, and tugged them off. She wriggled helpfully, panting harshly, her legs opening for him the moment she was freed of the scrap of fabric. He was reminded for a instant of their very first night together.

But her need now was not the same. It was more intense – but less specific. Anyone would do, during a heat. Literally anyone or anything...

And yet, as she lifted her head to stare at him, his heart thumped in his chest.

“Raha... _please_.”

He shed his own clothes quickly and joined her on the bed.

There was no teasing, no foreplay. She reached for him, burying her fingers in his hair – her legs wrapped around his hips – and even as he slanted his mouth across hers, she raised her hips and took him, in one motion.

She growled, and an answering growl rose in his own chest.

He began to move against her, making his thrusts as slow as he could – as slow as she would let him go. Her claws marked his shoulders, and he couldn't help but bite her. She screamed under him, and he felt her beginning to come. Her body writhed and he held onto her, hard, knowing his grip would leave her sore and bruised, but caught up in her need and his own response.

He had never felt pleasure like this. He had always loved making love with her, but never had it been so – so savage, so intense. The very small part of his mind still able to think understood that it was the hormones, the natural effects of a heat, that his own behavior was triggered by her need. But the rest of him was all animal in this moment, as his hips pounded against hers, harder, deeper, needing more of her.

He kissed her face, tasting her tears, muttering her name over and over. He held out as long as he could, wanting to give her more pleasure, more of everything, but at last he couldn't resist and his orgasm crashed over him. Nightbird howled as he emptied himself into her, too far gone to remember to pull out this time.

For a long while he lay over her, gasping for air, feeling her around him. Her hands stroked little circles on his back, and her legs had fallen open, no longer clenching him tightly. He was still hard, and his body wanted more, but he finally made himself shift, pull out of her, and raised himself up on his hands.

Her face was wet with tears, and her bottom lip was swollen. He felt tears in his own eyes as he saw the mark of his teeth in her shoulder. “Nightbird, I'm...”

“Raha...” the way she breathed his name made him fall silent. He gazed into her eyes and saw no pain, no fear.

He thought he had loved her before. The feeling that came over him now was so overwhelming that he couldn't even put a name to it; if his feelings before had been a bright lantern, this feeling was the rising sun. It frightened him with its power.

He shifted off of her and got up. She whined, and he set a finger to her lips. “I'll be right back.”

His steps wobbled a little, his muscles protesting mildly to bearing his weight, but he steadied after a few moments. He was glad that he had brought in a bucket of cold, clean water earlier in the day.

Having obtained a bowl full of the clean water, and a cloth, he came back to her and knelt beside the bed.

“Let me take care of you,” he murmured. Moving slowly, carefully, he cleansed her. She rolled over onto her belly when he finished, and he cleaned himself up before taking the water away.

When he padded back to her, and got in bed, she lay still for a moment and he thought maybe she'd fallen asleep. But then she groaned, softly, and pushed herself up a little, to crawl close to him. She lay her head on his shoulder, and draped her leg over his. Her hands were tucked close to her chest as she snuggled.

“I hate this,” she whispered.

Tears sprang to his eyes at the broken way she said it. He held her, gently, and pressed his lips to the top of her head. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to beg her forgiveness for the marks he'd left on her body, and yet he wanted to do it again, and again...

“I love you,” he managed, at last. His voice trembled as much as his hands did as he stroked her hair, her back. “I wish I knew a way to make it better for you.”

“You already have,” she sighed.

“I hurt you...?”

“It didn't hurt. Doesn't hurt.” She shifted, her foot rubbing along his shin. “Felt good. Just...I wish...”

“What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Nothing that needs to be said tonight.”

“Nightbird, don't...”

“I'll tell you. I promise. Later. Not when I'm...like this.”

Her hips rocked against him, and he felt her shudder, even as she set her hand on his chest and dragged her fingers across his skin, down and down, until she held his cock in her hand. G'raha sucked in a breath through his teeth at the exquisite pleasure as she stroked him.

He turned toward her, and she rolled to let him touch her, offering her throat to him as she tipped her head back. He kissed her neck, ran his tongue along the place where her blood pounded so close to the skin that he could see it. He brushed his lips over the ugly bite mark he had left, as if apologizing to the flesh he had abused. She murmured, and her hand skimmed across her own belly and cupped her breast. He dropped his head and suckled at her, feeling how she arched into him. His cock thumped against her belly.

But he was more in control of himself for now, and he took his time with her, lavishing attention on her breasts, her nipples, trailing kisses across her quivering belly even as he skimmed his palm across her thighs.

When he cupped her sex, she whimpered, her legs spreading. “Raha, please don't tease me.”

“I'm not,” he murmured against her breast, and slowly slipped his fingers inside of her.

She struggled, rocking her hips, trying to sit up, but he pressed her down with his greater weight and took her mouth with his, working her gently and slowly with three fingers as she moaned into his mouth.

He let her go and rested his head against hers. “I will give you what you need, my love,” he whispered, “but I won't hurt you again.”

Nightbird trembled, and wriggled her hand back down to stroke his cock again.

He continued with what he was doing, until she was quaking on the very edge of orgasm. Her arm was around his neck and she clung to him, panting, beyond words.

When he pulled his fingers out of her she cried out a little, pressing herself closer to him.

“On your knees, my dear,” he murmured into her ear.

He saw her eyes widen as she understood what he wanted. She wriggled onto her belly and then lifted up onto her hands and knees, even as G'raha rose up and moved down to the end of the bed.

She arched for him, raising her hips and her tail, presenting herself so deliciously that he groaned at the very sight.

But he made himself move slowly still, made himself stroke her before he gripped her hips, forced himself to enter her at a glacial pace that drove the both of them nearly mad.

“Ra...Raha...oh, oh please...!”

He ran his thumbs along the base of her tail, and she let out a piercing cry, one he answered with a deep groan as her walls clenched on him with unexpected force. She bucked herself against him, and he left off tormenting her tail to fuck her in earnest.

It took all he had to keep the pace steady and slow, and even so he was not as slow as he wanted to be. He panted harshly as he thrust against her, teeth clenched as he held himself back.

He was glad he had when she began to come around his cock. The rising wails that poured forth from her as he kept her at her peak were the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

But once again, too soon, his own body couldn't take any more, and he bent over her, filling her with his seed, mouth open but too overwhelmed even to cry out.

He collapsed to one side of her, and she fell into his arms.

He kissed her temple, and saw that she was – incredibly – already out cold.

He had to move slowly, finding himself sore and exhausted. But move he did, and once more cleaned them both up. He took particular care with her, knowing that if he was sore, she would be in much more pain, come morning. He kissed each place he had marked her, a tiny apology.

As he staggered back to the bed, Nightbird stirred, her eyes opening just a little.

“Don't leave me,” she whispered.

“I won't,” he promised, and gathered her close. She curled against him, a trusting smile on her lips as she went back to sleep.


End file.
